Onwards

She didn't want to leave things like this

But it was at the point where her heart and brain

Were constantly at odds with his ego

And she couldn't have that

She decided that half-measures would 

No longer be acceptable

And did the only thing that she could  

She straightened her makeup

Took a deep breath

And moved on in the grandest way she knew how

Remembering her forgotten worth

And loving herself more

-Cynicallovebird

Tumultuous

You are the most beautiful storm I have ever seen
          And I will always be the ship sailing into it.
Under every wave,
          Trying to catch a glimpse of who happened to you.

Trying to unload my cannon-fire into your crests 
          To soften the blows of the past that I'm an innocent in;                 You never crash into me hard enough to damage,
      But always just enough to leave a reminding sting 
                 When we get too close.
I'm constantly on guard.
As much as I am frightened by the realization 
               That you have the power destroy me completely
          I love it even more.
Stop trying to contain my wildfire!
     Forcing me to flicker into a simple flame.

I feel like I'm at the helm holding up my secret box of                        Unopened love letters.
Fodder from this wounded soul;
I wonder if you have any idea how curious I am to know 
          If that smile you gave me was a ploy 
            Or if I was as pleasing to your eyes as you are to mine.
I want to be drunk on your nostalgia.
I wonder what would you do if I randomly grabbed your                      Hand so I could dance with you 
               In the peaceful symphony of silence 
     That falls over the world 
         When you touch me in the kitchen 
                                  As my favorite song plays.
I wonder what kind of thoughts keep you up 
                 On a sleepless night; 
How you take your eggs or if you hate them like I do
          And how you take your coffee.
What your biggest regret was,

        Or rather who.

  Trying my damndest to give them to you and to show you that I'm real; 
               But your waves just dance around me.
Refusing to acknowledge anything except for 
       The pain of my past avoidance.
You must understand this:
      I am terrified of sparklers,
          And I always knew that you were fireworks.
And now that I'm here you won't play fair.
Trying to push me back ashore.
Stop trying to wash away memories 
                That haven't happened yet.

What makes you tick like the broken clocks you collect
             As if you're Captain Hook?
Or perhaps you're just the Unabomber of hearts
                     With your dynamite lit at the wrong end.

Seven Year Itch

I cannot forgive you,
The man who has hurt me. 
But I can forgive the child that was 
      Before you became this monster. 
He was innocent once.
Before we all grew up and started trying to kill each other
     And loved and adventured without fear of a THE END.

You sang hypnotically to my soul
     And I ran because I saw that you were bleeding and needed me.
There was so much red I stopped being able to see straight.
I knew that you were going to be one for the books.
I have fallen and gotten scraped from time to time,
     But you simply gutted me.
In what feels like seconds you had me drowning 
     In your hypnotic confusion.

The words you spoon fed me were holy.
Not like religion as you had hoped, 
     But like Swiss cheese.
I still nailed myself to a cross made out of apologies anyway.
I know I'm nothing to you.
I'm a fucking plagiaristic copy of every other being 
     You spewed invisible promises at.
I'm still finding myself wanting answers to this myth of yours.
You were always more beautiful as a stranger.
Are you sick or just from Hell?

One of these days I will forgive myself for falling in love
          With someone who never existed in the first place.
In minutes I was ripped from my happy place by you.
And somehow thought I'd be fine
          And just grateful that I made it out of your sickness alive.
Bright sides...
     There'd be no art if your rose colored glasses 
          Weren't kaleidoscopes in disguise.

I keep wondering why I'm not telling myself 
     That I'm going to be alright.
I'm reaching,
     But there are not arms for me to find solace in.
There is something about this new found silence that now has me more scared 
     Of being alive than of dying.
I am an escaped hostage who can't find her way home 
     Standing in her own living room.

I was always the brave one.
         The warrior.
If you know what's good for you,
     You'd drop the act and do the right thing.
You should have killed me.
As always it was half-assed 
     And still managed to rip everything I am out of my soul.
I'm still in here somewhere.
What will you do when you find that your discarded pawn 
          Was really the queen you were searching for?
I still find beauty in your "almost".

I Believe...

That just when you think you have lost all hope and admitting defeat and letting go feels like the only option, sometimes unexpected surprises turn up.

That sometimes spewing honesty at someone other than who it's meant for can be a good way to gain a new perspective without destroying a relationship that means everything to you; cathartic even.

That best friends were invented for times when our souls are screaming.

That tequila and pool tables were invented for times when you need to get something out of you that you can't quite put your finger on;  because it's going to come out whether you want it to or not.

That drunk feelings are sober thoughts minus caution.

That Mad Libs were invented for times when you need to feel like you're going to die from laughter;  the hands-down best way to make a grumpy, hormonal teenager get out of a slump.

That people who were not taught the meaning of NO as a child make the shittiest adults on the planet.

That when you realize that it's not actual defeat that you feel but rather a simple shock to the system, you can find healthier ways out of your own mind.

That teaching a child the things that you loved when you were their age is the most important thing in the world.

That if you have done everything you can to heal your wounds you should take all precaution to avoid what broke you;  but find a way to do it in such a way that you don't forget what makes you happy or how to live.

That if you are taking a time out to regain your sanity, the amount of calories in a pint of Ben & Jerry's doesn't count.  Negative calories if things are so awful that you've holed yourself in your room and are watching a movie in bed.  Double negative if it was because a boy made you cry.  I highly recommend Chunky Monkey for those times.

That sometimes when you are feeling like going shopping it's better to just pull everything out of a closet to appreciate what you already have - and maybe get rid of some of it because you realize what a hoarder you really are.

That most of the time, oceans are mere puddles and we should just find the joy in jumping in them instead of drowning ourselves in misperception.
  

Mid-Morning Observation

I'm messy when I'm human.
I mistake puddles for oceans and before I know it, 
I'm having a drunken one night stand or changing my hair or rearranging furniture and deep cleaning my closets or starting a new project that I know I'll never finish in an attempt to disinfect my feelings that are crawling under my skin like the sand worm in Beetlejuice in order to get you off of my mind.
It never works.
I need a new escape plan.

My dog will watch intently while he decides whether or not you are worthy of putting your hands on him.  
This could take minutes or it could take months;  
but he will never rush to his decision.  
Once he has chosen you, 
he'll spend every moment in your presence reminding you of his love and demanding yours.
He is the smartest 9 year old I have ever met. 
I wish that I could be more like him.
I on the other hand,
feel like a big dumb dog who is stupid excited for a belly rub every time that way you look at me crosses my mind.
Brain shut off, 
not caring how vulnerable I've just made myself.
Foreign, alienated, yet at home.  
Invigorated, yet settled.

None of the physics and all other things logical-defying devices that I've crafted over and over in my mind have been able to outrun those who have left my life. 
I don't miss most of them.
Chronically allergic to human relationships.
That's what I've always described this "thing" that goes on inside of me as.
I've never lost a limb; 
but I bet that's exactly what losing you would feel like.

Museum

I used to believe in signs.                 Perhaps I still do, but I don't go looking anymore.  Words I thought were painted vividly are showing themselves to me but they're as muddled as braille.                  Honestly!                                          Constantly wishing and hoping...

If the Gods wish for me to read riddles, I wish that they would please take my permission and not hold back when they hit me with "Hello" square in the face.

There's a strange reassurance in your existence that helps remind me of mine - as if being here and loving you has begun to make me real.

I'll let you into my brain.               Walk amongst my favorite memories, 
safeguarded behind ropes and glass.         
I won't let you touch them.               
The broken little girl I have let you see isn't the one you're touching when you lay your hands on me.                           The heart you're watching beat behind the gilded sign is too damaged to ever be whole again.                               Remember, you're here on a free day pass.  A view like this isn't going to last long. I'll show you a glimpse of who I am and shutter the doors because I saw that you weren't paying attention.                    I will recount all of my favorite memories; not that you have any interest in getting to know who I am.                  You are a visitor, only welcome to listen.

It's not like I can't live without you.       I've done that already.          
It's just that suddenly being without you feels unnatural.                         
I've never been willing to pull the sun out of the sky for anyone.

Memories are meant for visitation not for residency.                                   I never wanted to be loved.                 It's just that being in the same room as your presence hits me in a place within that tells me I could have fallen in love with you with my eyes closed.                            The memory of the sparkle in your eye that you had watching me when you thought I didn't see you has made a home in my mind.         It was as if something inside of you had caught fire.                                   It was as beautiful as it was unsettling.

Carefully pay attention to the signs that read "Do not touch" and "For safety reasons, stay inside of this line".I wish you had brought a sledgehammer.

Whirlwind

Wavering between reality and dreams.
Beautiful words and common sense.
What I believe and what I'm told.
       Deflector shields are up.             My heart is going to explode under the confusion.                              They're staying that way until things are different.                                 And you know exactly what I mean by that.

Words need to start becoming actions.      You tell me how you feel like I'm everything but you act like I'm nothing.                I saw this coming from a mile away and jumped willingly into your tornado anyways.

          Be patient.  NO.                  It is you who needs to be more careful with me.                                     There's a big difference between patience 

        and tolerating the destruction                of my entire being.               

On Dating....

Dating sucks.

There are all of these unspoken rules about how you're not supposed to spill everything you're thinking and feeling.  Being the kind of person who has a tendency to blurt out the first thing on their mind, this is not a good rule for me.

Honesty goes right out the window and nobody seems to be a fan of using it anymore.  Common sense is so rare it's practically a super power.

Not to mention that I melt at the mere thought of someone being thrilled in regards to my existence on this planet.  That has yet to happen as far as I'm aware of.  

I am so tired of doubting whether people are coming or going in my life.  Finding a way to power through repeated rejection.  I'm good at not acknowledging the fact that I'm a human being, but I am finding it harder and harder lately.  And I think it all boils down to what one person has done to me.  In a good way, but in a bad way too; more so because when I am with them I feel like a dog looks when they're stupid excited about a belly rub.

You know what turns me on?  What keeps me coming back?
Effort.  Assurance.  Conversation.  Conversing - my favorite verb on the planet.  Show me that you care.  That you really want me.

Actions, things like letting me know that you're still watching me get into my car and drive away after you've walked me out and telling me to let you know when I made it home.  Responding to messages.  Acting like you're glad to hear from me.  Don't just say shit to make me fall in love with you if you're not ready for me to do that.  Don't tell me that I make you happy after you've ignored me for a month.  Especially after canceling plans by text message and thinking that it was a perfectly acceptable option.  When you pull shit like that, you're basically the human equivalent of a participation award.  Good fucking job, douche.

Picture it:  I went out for some drinks with my friend last night and I told her what had been happening with Mr. InvaderOfWhatTheFuck-Landia.  I told her about the cuddling that I'm actually comfortable with, and the staring into my eyes, and political debates and discussions that I'm actually enjoying and was mostly sober for and the spending the night and all the fucked up things happening in my head, like taking him to my camp.  What the fuck is that?  It took me a year of knowing Mr. Seven Year Itch before he got to go there, and it was another 5 years before I let him go again.  (**Note:  for me, camp is the happiest place on Earth and I wouldn't ever just take anyone who hasn't earned a place in my life because I'll be damned if anyone is going to desecrate it with their bullshit)  After clarifying not once, but twice, that I was fine with the cuddling, she asked if I needed to go to the Emergency Room to be checked for roofies or other drugs because she was genuinely concerned for my safety.  In her words, "I can see you enjoying a political debate before I can see you not screaming in terror when someone is trying to cuddle you, and even then I would need photographic evidence to believe it."  In other words;  this really has never happened before in the history of ever.  Holy Fuck balls. 

When I deactivated my POF account in the fall shortly after I met Mr. I, it wasn't because I was delusional enough to believe right away that he was the one;  it was because I FUCKING HATE DATING.  I didn't even really want to reactivate it 2 weeks ago like I did.  I've had some pretty interesting conversations.  And in response to something Mr. I. said, no, to the best of my knowledge, I do not have a fan club.  Not anywhere on this planet.

I'm starting to think my account should read:  

Super socially awkward, fun loving single mom of 2.  I'm an open book, but not a doormat.  Has a tendency to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind and is the only person in the entire world who actually wants what she says that she does.  I love being outside with my dog, laughing with friends.  I'm looking for friends, possibly more.  Definitely not just a one time hook up.  I honestly think that I'm the last person on the planet who thinks that loyalty is a thing to be proud of and doesn't see dating as a sport.  Lover of shows from 70's, 80's and 90's television.  Geeky t-shirt wearer.  Twisted sense of humor.  No fucks given, most of the time.  Compulsively organizes a closet or a drawer while the rest of the house looks like it exploded.  Kitchen alchemist - fudge catches fire when it boils over onto a glass top stove and then turns to rock, who knew :).  Lover of projects, just doesn't have the attention span to be able to finish the last 10%, no matter what it is.  Just for kicks pinup and fetish model - no being open about it isn't an invitation to ask for nude pictures or to disrespect me.  I don't judge other people's dynamics but if you're on here and you're lying to someone about it, look elsewhere.  I will love your pet and will probably be more affectionate with them than with you.  I have a very hard time not treating people like I've known them for the past millennium so don't take offense to my kindness.  I love to play games, just none that involve a person's vital organs if you catch my drift.  I'm not needy, I'm a very busy person and I care about the people in my life so if I make time for you please respect that.  Please have something intelligent to say, I love conversation.  I'm not looking to have a fantastic conversation one minute and be ignored and treated like I'm nothing the next.  I have the attention span of a squirrel, if you can hold my attention for more than five minutes I will love you until the Earth falls apart.  If you message me and all you can say is "What's up?" I'm going to ignore you. If all you can say to me is how amazing my boobs look in the black dress (**note, a picture I put on there on purpose to weed out the dicks), I will block you.   Oh, and don't be a lying douche.  It's just bad form.

And I don't have any interest or want to hear about all of the shitty relationships you've had constantly.  Or making me feel inadequate by sharing all of your amazing stories about how your ex had the most amazing body in the history of boobs.  Stop storing memories of failure better than a camel stores water.  Talk about the past at appropriate times;  sexy time, is not that time.

Another thing:  You know how some guys buy flowers or drinks in bars for girls?  Why can't people do that in other stores?  Like when I'm looking at a comic book store and someone walks up to me and offers to buy me the #13 Quantum Leap or some Calvin & Hobbes or that Stay Puft marshmallow man piggy bank (that I still regret not buying when I saw it at Bull Moose), there is a bigger chance that things would work out in their favor.

And when it comes to relationships:  fuck the flowers and the gifts.  I just want to know that you think about me because you don't just say it.  You show it by touching me like it's agony on your hands not to.

I give up.  

There May Be Life On Mars After All....

"When you get excited over a new sponge in the sink, you're at an all time low."

- Realized as I was waiting to see if my coffee was going to use it's powers for good or evil this morning.

I'm going to get honest for a minute.

The past 6 weeks have been Hell.  I have been in a space that, with no other way to put it, I was shut down from life.  When you have been involuntarily attacked within your own walls that you put up to protect yourself by someone that you trusted with your entire being, stuck in your own mind is a very bad place to be.  

I had panic attacks, sometimes several a day.  I cried more and harder than I have in my lifetime.  I have consumed more alcohol than I did in the entirety of last year combined.  I was angry.  Most nights if I got any at all, I could count the number of hours of sleep on one hand.  The stress was so bad that I broke out in hives and woke up every morning for two weeks looking like I had been wrestling with a tiger in my sleep.  I consumed more benedryl and advil than any stomach should have to bear.  My house is more of a wreck than usual.  I binge watched Netflix and did everything I could do to avoid seeing anything remotely happy or lovey-dovey.  I was compulsive.  I barely ate.  I was selfish.  I did what I needed to do to feel better come Hell or high water; no matter what that was.  I was honest with people about what I was feeling and thinking and I wasn't always nice about it.

And here's the thing:  I'm not sorry.

I reached out to people more than I was ever able to.  I forced myself to laugh until I wasn't forcing it anymore.  I became more conscientious about how I was feeling and embracing it instead of turning myself into an emotionless, exploding zombie trying to ward off feelings.  I ate good things to make up for the fact that I could barely eat and now that's all I want.  I started moving on with my life and it moved with me instead of crumbling like I was afraid of.  I did what I needed to do to relax regardless of the number of hours of sleep I got.  I sought inner peace until it wasn't running from me anymore.  Over the past week, things have slowly gotten better and I have faith that they will even more so.  I think my biggest hang up was that I didn't feel like myself and I was so focused on getting that back that I didn't realize that she very well may be gone forever.  And that I'm okay with it.

Sometimes, something really horrible has to happen in our lives;  shaking us at our very core.  Being thrown into a Hell that we didn't ask for;  learning to stop analyzing and asking questions I'll never get answers to and simply find a way out.  Then, and only then, are we able to come out able to see the beauty in something as seemingly simple as a new sponge in the sink.